Morning at the Office. The weather was lovely, more like the softness of the latter part of Spring than our harsh and chilly weather of the Season. It was too warm to have need of Fire, a thing remarkable to say in these days. I was occupied during the morning in reading Williston, and feeling still the strong fury for writing I sat down and wrote a few pages upon the subject. They pleased me better than any thing I had written before and the arrangement of the ideas met my satisfaction more. My allowance of time however was so small that I could not finish as I was obliged to return home uncommonly early in order to go out to Medford with my wife and Mrs. Chardon Brooks who had agreed to go and dine there. My father sent Abby a letter from Philadelphia which place he had reached on Friday Evening.1 We rode to Medford together in a Carriage with both Windows down more as if it was Summer than Winter.

We found Mrs. Brooks and the family much as usual. She is not well but on the whole seems considerably better than she was during the Summer. Our dinner was much as usual and I felt just as I usually do. I do not know why it is that I can say so little as I do at that house, but it does seem to me as if my tongue was tied when I get into it. Habitual caution, and the fear of committing myself upon many subjects in which I know I do not feel as they do, is perhaps the reason. For with my Father, how different is it. We remained there until nearly sunset, when we started with the additional company of Mrs. Everett and Chardon. Mrs. Frothingham’s child has been very ill with Measles, so that Abby wished to go and 99see how it was. We went accordingly, found it better and from thence we passed over to Eliza’s to the usual weekly Meeting. I went earlier and it was at first rather dull, but it ended pleasantly and we returned home in rain. Mrs. Everett going with us to stay the Night.2